Cry baby

I’m super sensitive. It’s true, I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve (that’s just where it wears best, I suppose). And I cry at a drop of a hat at just about everything.

So, it’s only fitting that I cried tonight while watching an episode of “Army Wives.” It was actually a commercial during the show about “Army Wives Gives Back.” It’s this program where the show does special things for real life Army wives.

It wasn’t necessarily the most moving thing that was done this week—a honeymoon was given to a couple who had to cancel their big wedding plans when the woman’s husband was deployed. Yet, I teared up and cried because it was still touching in that a difference was made in an ordinary, everyday person’s life. Such things always inspire me. It’s just like watching “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition;” I’ve always thought it would be the greatest job to have. How cool is it to have a job that makes a difference in this world?

That’s what I’ve always wanted to do.

That’s why I got into journalism. 

I remember one day during my senior year in college watching an elderly man riding his motorized wheelchair down the street in front of my apartment complex. I remember thinking how fascinating his story must be. And I remember how awesome my major in school was in that I would one day be able to tell such fascinating stories from ordinary folks.

And I’ve met so many interesting people in my line of work in the past.

Just last week, I had the chance to interview this amazing black single mother raising two biracial children. What fascinated me so much was that while raising them, she’s also decided to go back to school to get her masters. Plus, she tries to expose her children to many cultural events, teaching them that while we should celebrate our differences, we all have commonalities.

But tonight as I sat watching television, I realized that I need to do more. I miss being out in the trenches, meeting the real people. I miss making a difference.